


unexpected defense

by Periazhad



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Jason Todd is Red Hood, unsatisfying ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 17:33:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30092637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periazhad/pseuds/Periazhad
Summary: Jason's not interested in Tim after the Tower, but Tim keeps showing up.At his apartment. On a rooftop.Jason doesn't care, until Tim gets in the way.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 54
Kudos: 196





	unexpected defense

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know that I exactly like this, but I've been having what is most likely a miscarriage all day and needed to write SOMETHING to not obsess over the fact that I won't know for a while what's actually happening, and this came out.
> 
> Let me know if I missed any tags, because I had no idea how to tag it.
> 
> I also wrote it in past tense, which means there's probably at least one place I slipped into present and didn't notice.

Jason looked down, blood dripping from his knife. The kid had finally stopped screaming, stopped fighting back. He was still breathing, and Jason had planned to end that, too, but, somehow, it didn’t hold the same appeal. He’d proven he was the superior fighter, proven that Bruce should have loved him more, and he suddenly felt a little hollow.

Killing the kid wouldn’t prove anything. He looked around, seeing the blood with new eyes, and left a message.

He was done with this. Red Hood had work to do in Gotham.

\---

It was a little surprising he’d been left alone back in Gotham. He’d thought, maybe, Bruce would exact a bloody vengeance for daring to touch his Robin. Dick’s been such a good older brother; it was almost a given he was going to pay Red Hood a visit.

But no one did. And they stayed out of his side of town. He told himself they’d gotten his message, and that was good, and all he needed.

He hadn’t convinced himself of that as much as he’d thought, because his heart skipped a beat when someone knocked on his safehouse door. No one knew he was here, unless he’d been tracked. And if any of his enemies were here, Jason knew they wouldn’t be fucking knocking.

All the same, he had a gun in his hand when he opened his door.

Only to see someone in civilian clothes, wearing a domino, carrying a bag.

The kid shoved the bag at him, and Jason took it in surprise.

“Look, I never really wanted it. Just take it, and go home, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Jason blinked down at Timothy Drake, on his doorstep, brain still rebooting. Out of all the Bats…

“Nah, kid,” he hears himself saying. “I don’t really want it anymore. It doesn’t really work with—” he shifts the gun meaningful, “—my whole thing here.”

Tim’s eyes widened behind the domino, as if just noticing the gun, and he took a step back. He looked fully recovered from Jason’s little visit to the Tower.

“But—isn’t that what you wanted?”

Jason sighed. “No, it’s not what I wanted.”  _ I wanted Bruce to never replace me. I wanted him to come find me. _

“Then why…?” He trailed off, looking down, and Jason felt an unexpected pang of guilt.

Of course he would think Jason nearly killed him because Tim was in his place. Shit, Jason’s been calling him  _ Replacement. _

“Go home, kid,” was all he said, dropping the bag in the hall and going to shut the door.

“W—wait,” Tim cried, stepping forward, but Jason didn't stop.

He leaned up against the door, rubbing his hand over his face. Jesus Christ. Of all the fucking Bats, the  _ kid  _ showed up?

\----

A week later, there was another knock at his door. Jason had a sinking feeling, but opened the door. The kid wasn’t even wearing a domino, this time, and Jason closed his eyes briefly, seeking patience.

Tim was fidgeting, and didn’t meet Jason’s eyes. Jason leaned up against the door frame, and waited him out.

Finally he muttered, “Are you not going to go home? They’re waiting for you.”

How the fuck does he always manage to catch Jason off-guard?

“Listen, kid.” He pushed himself off the door frame, and the kid  _ flinched.  _ Jason froze for a moment, but said, “I’m not going home. They don’t  _ want  _ me at home.”

He shut the door in Tim’s face.

He ignored the knock a few days later.

\---

He was out at night when he caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye. Red Hood doesn’t patrol in the same way the Bats do, but it seems  _ someone _ has managed to predict his movements.

Circling back, he landed behind the darkly clad figure peering off the rooftop.

“Looking for me?” 

The figure whirled, and the what the  _ fuck _ is the Replacement doing out here, alone, with no costume? Jason noted he’s not even wearing a damn domino as his face paled and he stepped backwards.

_ Backwards. _

One foot off the edge of the roof, eyes wide and staring as he started to fall, and Jason lunged forward and pulled him back onto the roof.

“What the fuck? Do you even have a grapnel line with you?”

Tim shook his head, shaking like a leaf. Jason could feel it, because he was still holding onto him. He let go.

“What the fuck are you doing out here?”

Tim wouldn’t look at him, but he said, “Gathering data.”

“Gathering data.” Jason’s voice was flat. “In the middle of the night, with no costume, you’re on a roof gathering data.”

Tim flinched, but nodded.

“Data on what?”

Tim scuffed his shoe nervously, shrugging, and Jason restrained an urge to pull him further onto the rooftop.

“Does Batman know you’re out here?” A shake of his head. “Nightwing? Oracle? Anyone?” More head shaking. “Did he ground you from Robin; is that why you snuck out?”

Another shake of the head. Jason wanted to shake the kid for actual answers. And then suddenly Jason wasn’t even sure why he was still on the roof. Kid wasn’t in Robin colors, wasn’t doing anything Hood would care about…

But he was still an unarmed sixteen year old out at night instead of at home.

“I’ll call Batman, and he can get you home safe.”

Tim looked up at that, and said, “No. No, don't call,” and the little idiot took  _ another _ step backward.

Jason’s arm shot out, and he grabbed Tim’s arm, holding him in place. The kid went still. Completely still. Jason wasn’t sure he was even breathing. He dropped Tim’s arm like it was hot and softly said, “I’m not gonna hurt you, but you can’t stay out here.”

“I can—I can make my own way home.” 

_ Fuck it.  _ “Okay, kid, head home.” Jason swung off the roof. Not his mess, and the kid was still terrified of him. If he wanted to lurk around on rooftops in the middle of the night with no gear, Jason wasn’t his dad, and he didn't give a shit.

\---

Jason sees a figure watching him on other nights, and chooses not to confront him. If the kid wants to get himself killed spying on Jason, it’s none of Jason’s business

\---

Jason hadn’t been killing as many people. If he was honest, he hadn’t deliberately killed anyone since the Tower. He just...hadn’t felt the drive. A shot to the kneecap took them out, and, if they even made it to the hospital without someone else taking them out, they were not coming back out on the street for at least a year. And if they did, they’d be crippled.

That’s enough for Jason, for now.

Or at least it was, until he broke into a warehouse and found it full of cages. Cages full of fucking _ children. _

He held it together. Kneecapping the assholes in the warehouse, calling the cops and social services, reassuring the kids they were safe, staying until the last minute.

He held it together up in the rafters, watching to make sure no one hurt them more.

He held it together as the warehouse cleared out, and it got quiet.

He held it together until someone who was almost certainly the ring leader swaggered back in through a side door and stopped to stare, slack-jawed, at the empty warehouse. 

Before he realized it, the man was pinned to the side of the warehouse and Jason’s gun was at his temple.

“Hey man, what the fuck!” Then he registered who was holding the gun, and he paled.

“You trafficked kids,” Jason said, not even recognizing his own voice. His body was going numb.

“Look, Hood, it—” 

Jason threw him on the floor.

“You trafficked kids.” 

The man held up his hands. 

“Tell me, did you sample the merchandise yourself?” 

The trafficker paled even further, and Jason’s entire world narrowed to the feel of the gun in his hand. The man was talking, saying something, trying to scramble backwards but hitting the wall, and blood was roaring in Jason’s ears.

He fired, and a dark figure threw himself in front of the trafficker.

Jason watched, still numb, as Tim rolled off, hand clamped to his side. Tim pulled his hand off for a moment, and it gleamed red even in the dim lighting of the warehouse.

If at first you don’t succeed.

He raised the gun, and Tim staggered to his feet to stand in front of the gun.

“Hood, wait!”

Jason didn’t particularly want to shoot Tim, so he waited. Tim’s shirt was getting darker under his hand, blood spreading out.

“You haven’t killed anyone in weeks. Not since the Tower.” His knees almost gave out, and Jason watched dispassionately as Tim visibly steeled himself. “You need—you need to go  _ home.” _

Jason can fill in the blanks. The kid thinks if Jason doesn’t kill, he can go home. As if killing was all that kept Jason from going home. As if killing one more person would make or break Jason’s personal morality.

“Step aside, kid.”

Sometimes, some people needed to die. Maybe not as often as he once thought, but he was willing to make an exception.

Tim opened his mouth, but only a gasp came out. He wavered, and dropped to his knees, hand still clamped to his side. The trafficker was frozen, pressed up against the wall. Jason could shoot him, with Tim out of the way, but something about shooting him when the kid was bleeding out in front of him suddenly scraped at him.

He tried to push through it; he doesn’t  _ care _ about this kid, he’s doesn’t even  _ know _ him, but—

_ Fuck it. _

He stepped to the side, and Tim reached out a shaking hand as Jason kneecapped the guy. He scooped Tim up, electing  _ not _ to call it in. The asshole would call it in himself, or not, and either way Jason was done with him. 

Getting them both up to a rooftop, he laid Tim down gently.

“Fuck. Okay, kid, can you keep up the pressure?”

“Y—yeah.”

Jason fiddled with his helmet and said, “Batman? C’mon, old man, I know you’re listening. I’ve got a wounded bird here for you.” 

Tim was frantically waving at Jason to stop, trying to tell him something about it not being a big deal, but Jason tuned him out. He did shove the kid’s hand out of the way, and applied the pressure himself.

“Batman, do you want the kid to bleed out on a roof?”

“Where are you?” Batman’s clipped tones came through, and Jason gave the address. “I’m five minutes out. What is the nature of his wound?”

“Gunshot wound to the side.” A pause.

“Hood, don’t kill him.” Batman’s voice was threatening.

“Don’t  _ kill _ him? What the fuck, B? You think I’d call you in just to kill him?”

“Robin is injured, shot, in Crime Alley. Are you telling me you didn’t shoot him?”

Jason opened his mouth and then closed it. Somehow,  _ he jumped in front of my gun _ didn't sound convincing, and  _ I shot him by accident _ sounds even worse.

“There was a misunderstanding,” was what he settled on.

“Robin came to me a month ago and told me you’d promised to stop killing, Hood.” 

Jason looked down at Tim, who had closed his eyes.  _ What? _

“He vouched for you.”  _ He what? _

Jason hadn’t made any such promise. What the fuck? Batman swung onto the rooftop, and his voice echoed as it came through the comm as well.

“So tell me, Hood, who shot him?”


End file.
